


Corporeal

by JesstheEnthusiast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Patronus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesstheEnthusiast/pseuds/JesstheEnthusiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of her memories are tainted.</p>
<p>Lily!centric with a hint of James/Lily</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corporeal

She’s told that she needs a happy thought –  _no, not that one_ , she hears Moody bark;  _that one’s not strong enough. Flying off of a swing set? That’s ridiculous. You think that you could ward off a swarm of dementors with_ that? _As you lay on the cold, hard ground with your soul being ripped from you entirely,_ that’s _your first thought?_ That’s _your saving grace? Don’t waste my time with nothing but your best._   _Dumbledore’s told me all about you, Evans, and I_ expect _your_ best _._  And so she breathes and she tries again and there’s wisps of silver that drift from the tip of her wand and wither into nothing almost immediately.  
  


Weak. Her happy memories of her sister have been reduced to nothing but a bit of weak smoke. And that somehow seems fitting.

 

_Pull yourself together, Evans. Give me something powerful. Give me your best, Evans._

 

But she can’t because she feels like she’s falling apart. She never realized it before but her memories of her sister are tainted. The comfort and warmth she used to feel towards them are marred by all of the cold glances and words, awful words that ache and burn. She feels it with her parents, too, and she hates herself for it. Smiles and bright eyes are haunted by stilled heartbeats and a nightmare that won’t go away. They’re tainted – all of it – and it scares her. Her sister and her parents are no longer a safe haven, and neither is Cokeworth and anyone who has ever lived there. God only knows that any memory that Severus has ever touched is tainted.

 

  
_Damn it, Evans, you have to_ focus _. You’re not pushing yourself hard enough. You’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t push yourself._  


 

She produces smoke once again and it suddenly occurs to her that  _all_  of her memories are tainted. Nothing alive lives in them, only ghosts. Ghosts of her life and what used to be and what should have been and what will never be all because she is a  _freak_  and a  _mudblood_  and some _asshole_  sitting in jail doesn’t know how to drive. She never expected to be so young and already so broken. And yet here she is.

 

  
_If there isn’t_ something _that makes you happy, Evans, there’s got to be_ someone _._  


 

And then it hits her. And she’s not sure why she didn’t think of him before. How  _someone_  comes in the form of uncontrollable hair and crooked glasses and hazel eyes – so much joy and mischief and laughter that leave her breathless and with smile lines.

 

And so she closes her eyes and she thinks of that lanky idiot –  _her_  lanky idiot – and the way that he carries himself and the way that her name sounds like prayer when he whispers it and the warmth and the love that he represents. Everything about him is just so alive and so  _James_  and she wouldn’t change him for the world.

 

And then she opens her eyes to a beautiful, silver doe before her and loud praises from Moody but she can only laugh.

 

Because James showed her his patronus the other day. They match. And she isn’t the slightest bit surprised.


End file.
